


Part of the Narrative

by Sqigglemonkey



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, This Is Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:42:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sqigglemonkey/pseuds/Sqigglemonkey
Summary: Mollymauk falls in love with Caleb, and then he dies. Is this the end of his life? or just another adventure?





	Part of the Narrative

The flash of dirty, red hair, and the beautiful face of the human that accompanied it, where the first things Mollymauk saw as he walked into the tavern that night to advertise the circus. He found himself frozen, unable to look away, engrossed in the attractiveness of this man he had just set eyes on, muttering the words of a song he had heard not too long ago under his breath:

_I remember that dreamlike candlelight_

_Like a dream that you can't quite place_

_But love, I'll never forget the first_

_Time I saw your face_

_I have never been the same_

_Intelligent eyes in a hunger-panged frame_

Then Yasha nudged him in the side and he came back to focus, the song dying in his throat and he grinned at her. Gods, he was horny. 

He could not get the thought of the wizard, Caleb, out of his head, and it was even worse when the group was under house arrest together. Every hit in battle made him more angry at whoever had hit the wizard, made his heart beat faster with worry. This was not just a desire for sex, he began to realise, this was feelings and more. It was probably just a crush, and so he did not do anything about it, not approaching unless to ask a question for the group, no romance involved.

Molly could see that the wizard was not completely well, mentally. Caleb was scared, worried, fear in his eyes, in his stature, in his being. He had no desire to hinder any progress that he was making. He did not have any desire to help either, however, until the gnoll cave, and the sight of burning corpses had Caleb dissociating, and all Molly wanted to do was gather him in his arms and take the pain away, but instead he slapped him across the face, fighting the urge to kiss his lips by placing his own on his forehead. He hoped, in some small way, that it helped.

For weeks, months, Molly avoided speaking about his feelings, knowing now that this was more than a crush, trying to ignore it with flaunting himself and the people he slept with, rather than being honest and talking to Caleb. He said nothing, did nothing to give any indication that he liked Caleb any more than a friend, a teammate, one of the Mighty Nein. Yasha knew of course, she always did, she could see through him.

Mollymauk planned on keeping it that way. Life always did like to play its games, however, and one night, unable to rest, he sat by the fire. Caleb was on watch, and he sat across the fire from him, keeping warm, but able to subtly watch him as he read his book. The song came to him once more, and he couldn't help but sing it quietly, glances at Caleb as he did so. Molly knew he had heard it, however, as Caleb stood, walking off a little ways, and Molly's heart ached, standing and returning to his tent.

The next few days were awkward, more so around Caleb than anything else, and he had just managed to gather enough confidence, not the outward peacock that he flaunted for everyone, but enough to calm hos anxiety, to speak to Caleb, to apologise, when he approached Molly.

"Mollymauk," the scruffy man began, not meeting his gaze, looking at the ground, "I just want you to know, that whilst I am flattered by your feelings towards me, I am going to have to disappoint you. I am... not ready for a relationship. I don't, I don't deserve one. I don't deserve kindness, or romance. I especially don't deserve the love of such a wonderful person: you. It doesn't matter how much I want it, I can't have it. I shouldn't." He nodded his head, once, met Molly's eyes for a second, coughed, "That is all, ja." and walked off before Molly could say anything. The words ran over and over in his head, but he did not question them, all mingling together in his sadness that he would not let the others see.

Caleb went down in battle again, and it almost tore Molly's heart in half. He controlled the urge to rush across the moment Jester healed him, resisted the urge to hug him and press against his side, resisted all the urges to care for Caleb, until they got to the tavern, and then, when they were alone, he released them, letting all of his intentions clear in the look he gave Caleb as he crossed the room to him, taking his face in his hands and kissing him. Caleb gasped into his mouth as he gripped Molly's hair, and kissed him back.

Over the next few weeks they would steal moments alone, where the others weren't there, to kiss, cuddle, be close to each other. Molly made it clear to Caleb that this had nothing to do with their pasts, that this was for now, for this moment. It had nothing to do with being worthy enough or not. It was about what they wanted, whether they felt it was deserved or not. 

One morning, they awoke, wrapped together in the huddle tent that Caleb had conjoured, to the sound of crying, distress and sadness. Jester, Fjord, and Yasha had all been taken in the night. They had to find them.

The plan came into place, and they were ready to fight. They set up the tent in the bushes, one on watch, the others huddled together close for warmth. The next day they would fight Lorenzo, they would get their friends back. They had to.

The fight was over faster than Molly had ever thought, and as he kneeled infront of Lorenzo, swaying slighly, coming in and out of conciousness, he locked eyes with Caleb, and muttered another song

_Look at where you are_

_Look at where you started_

_The fact that you're alive is a miracle_

_Just stay alive, that would be enough_

He spat blood in Lorenzo's face before the glaive in his chest pushed him under.

Molly felt light as death took him, the memory of Caleb the only thing on his mind, of the words he had once sung to him

_We don't need a legacy_

_We don't need money_

_If I could grant you peace of mind_

_If you could let me inside your heart_

_Let me be a part of the narrative_

_In the story they will write someday_

Then everything went white, images flashing as he saw his friends burying him, looting the important things.

"Shine bright, circus man."


End file.
